


the inconvenience of an apology

by tielan



Series: Meeting Halfway [23]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drama, F/M, Intimacy, Intrigue, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:27:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22750231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: Accepting all of his lover; even the parts Steve doesn't like.
Relationships: Maria Hill/Steve Rogers
Series: Meeting Halfway [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/30267
Comments: 15
Kudos: 133
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	the inconvenience of an apology

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Entwinedlove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwinedlove/gifts).



> I went with the theme of 'intimacy' for this treat. Of course, being these two, it doesn't quite look like what might be expected...
> 
> For the 30 Days of OTP - Day 22: In Battle, Side By Side. This is not how I initially envisioned this story in the series going, but it works.

Maria moves through the crowds like she knows exactly where she’s going. Steve trails behind, holding firmly to her hand. The hand-holding was originally a necessity in the crowd around the city, as well as an opportunity to PDA with Maria who is generally firmly against anything that might connect them in public.

Steve has been working on that this trip.

"Keep moving," she says as they thread through the crowds, seemingly casually. "Wait five minutes at the meeting point and then move on.” Maria lets him press up close against her in the crowd. Her voice is expertly pitched to reach Steve’s ears. “Do not make a target of yourself. Don't fight them, don't pursue them, don't turn the tables on them. Right now we don't have any intel on who these people are and what they want, and if we have to extract you blind, I will _not_ be happy."

"Noted."

She gives him a sharp look at the droll comment, then opens her mouth to...do something. What she ends up doing is kissing Steve back, her mouth moving swift and sweet across his before she breaks away. "I'll see you at the meeting point."

"Be careful."

He watches her head down the laneway beside the coffee shop, and vanishes into the backstreets of the city.

It was supposed to be a holiday. A brief stay incognito, suggested by Wanda, aided by Nat, and abetted by Sam. Steve had hoped for a quiet few days with Maria, just them. No world to save, no work to do, no surprises.

It was probably a bit much to ask. He is, after all, an internationally wanted fugitive. And Maria is – if not openly active in world security – still recognised among the intelligence community. All things considered, it’s a wonder they weren’t spotted before they went to St Mark’s Square.

Steve didn’t think splitting up was a good idea; Maria disagreed.

_I can get a bead on them while they’re following you,_ she said.  _If they’re after both of us, it’s harder to pretend that we don’t know they’re there._

So now Steve is dependent on his memory of the maps he studied this morning to tell him where he’s going, because the last time he was in Venice, it was night-time, the city was occupied by German and Italian forces, and the Howling Commandoes were coming in over the rooftops.

Strolling through Venice in broad daylight while keeping an eye out for his pursuers is not an easy task, but Steve's learned a few things from Natasha and Sam. He'll never do incognito comfortably, but these days he can walk down the street without drawing notice.

Two streets later, though, Steve wonders if he's done _too_ good a job. There's no sign of the people Maria pointed out to him; no indication that they're on his trail.

He dares a look around him, under the guise of trying to work out where he is and where he's going.

No. Nobody following him - that he can see, of course, but then...

Their tails were obvious before. If they're not obvious now, then either something's about to happen--

Or it's not _Steve_ they're after.

When they first spotted their tails, Steve mometarily wondered which of them they were after, but Maria was so damn insistent that it must be him... There’s an irony in how persistently she dismisses her value as a hostage, but that’s an argument for another day.

With a curse, Steve turns on his heel and goes back the way he came.

Of course, right at that moment a flood of tourists make their way into the street and Steve finds himself having to weave through the masses, even as he keeps an eye out just in case he's wrong and their tails are still following him—

He gets out of the main street and into the laneway Maria went down, his senses alert for anything that might tell him where she's gone, who was following her. Where does this laneway go? It connects up to another small back lane, and there are two ways he can go. He thinks one leads down to a dead end, with building works blocking the way, the other leads out to a side street that then crosses a bridge back to a main thoroughfare...

Steve pauses. Is that a grunt? A punch?

He takes the dead end route, slipping the water canteen from his daypack with one hand. If Maria took the other way and got to the main thoroughfare then she's probably safe and on her way to the meeting point. But if she's trapped in an alley with people trying to kill her--

There are three of them, two holding her up against the wall while the third tries to get something in her arm—

"Hey!" As they turn, distracted, Steve hurls the metal canteen for the one about to jab Maria - overhand, high, and without warning. It takes needle guy in the head with a solid thunk and he goes down. The distraction gives Maria the opportunity to get her arm free. Her fist takes the near-side guy in the throat, and given how the guy on the far side suddenly doubles over, Steve guesses she got a knee free, too.

Then he's there, yanking Near-Side away and tossing him into a wall. The crunch of cartilage as Maria lashes out at Far-Side suggests that the guy will at the least need a nose job to get his old looks back, and Steve leaves her to it. Needle-Jabber is climbing to his feet, pale eyes fixed malevolently on Steve as he swings. Does it go wild because he's been smacked in the head by a metal canteen, or does it go wild because Steve ducks under it and jabs him with an elbow to the back of the arm? Does it really matter, when Needle stumbles and lays his length out across the cobblestones?

Near-Side has pushed himself up from the wall and is pointing something gun-shaped with a bluish sheen at Maria. Steve lunges for the weapon and the shot - not a bullet, something energy-based - goes wild. He yanks the gun away from the guy, wrenching Near-Side's fingers as he does so. A twist of the arm brings the man to his knees, and Near-Side yelps with pain.

Or maybe that's Far-Side, because he's just fallen to his knees, clawing at his throat.

Maria, meanwhile, has one arm out to steady her against the wall while her other presses against her breastbone, like she's trying to breathe. The smear of blood across the arm holding her up chills Steve to the bone. "Maria?" He slams Near-Side into the wall and starts towards her. Metal and plastic crunch beneath his boot - the needle which blooded her and whose effects she's presently fighting. He scoops it up and pockets it, then strides over.

"How bad?"

The fact that she clutches him like he's her lifeline suggests it's pretty bad. And Steve's first instinct is to swing her up into his arms and carry her back to their quarters, but to do so in the busy streets of Venice would draw attention that they can't afford.

"Nausea and dizziness," she breathes. "I can't... Dissociation." She swallows hard. "Steve—"

They need to get out of here, and they need to do it fast. Steve takes a look at the streetworks that are blocking the way out of here - wooden partitions with a locked door on it. And he hates to vandalise, but they need to get out of sight as swiftly as possible, before someone comes looking for these three—

A quick jerk on the padlock breaks the hook, and he opens the door and helps Maria through. The space behind it is a morass of mud and stonework - some old decoration fell and smashed some of the pathway, and the rest of the stonework has been judged unsafe...

Maria's still on her feet, but reeling, and when he holds her up, Steve can feel the arrhythmia of her heartbeat against his arm. "Hey," he murmurs. "Can you stay with me?"

She's breathing hard, staring into space. From the way she's concentrating, he figures she's trying to push through whatever the drug is doing to her. "I think... I may end up looking drunk."

"Is there someone we can call? Any backup?"

"No." Maria grunts. "Park. Nearby. Sit down. Wait."

Racking his memory of where they are, Steve remembers a garden space in one of the many museums that are open to the public but not commonly advertised. It's two streets away; they just have to make it there without drawing attention.

Without drawing too much attention.

There are a few odd looks as they make their way through the streets; but nobody stops them, and only one woman pauses to ask if Maria's okay. She's looking at Maria for the answer, though, not at Steve.

"Bad reaction to the seafood," Maria manages. "Not anaphylaxis, mild allergy. Shouldn't have had the wine, too."

"Are you sure?"

Maria smiles. "Yes. Thanks for checking."

That makes the stranger back off somewhat, but Steve can feel the woman's gaze on him like a laser all the way to the gardens. "She doesn't trust me," he mutters as they reach the gates.

"Get over it." Maria sighs as they step into the high-hedged garden, almost sagging against his side in relief. "For all she knows you might have been the one to drug me."

"I--" Steve is cut off as Maria eases herself down into the grass, then tugs him down beside her. "I wouldn't--"

"But she doesn't know that." Maria leans against his side, then shudders. Only it's not just a shiver, but uncontrollable tremors that quiver through her.

"Maria?" Steve wraps an arm around her back. She's chilled - no wonder she's shivering! "Okay, I'm calling for help--"

Her hand catches his as he reaches for his phone. "No, Steve. It's okay. _Steve_."

"You're _not_ okay."

"It'll pass," she takes a deep breath and presses against him, tense and holding herself very still. "I just..." She lays a hand on his thigh. "May I—?"

After a momentary hesitation, Steve helps her into his lap by wrapping an arm around her waist and easing Maria onto him. She curls an arm over his shoulder and rests her cheek against his temple before exhaling with careful slowness and almost pressing herself against him, like she's taking shelter in him.

He issues her a warning. “If this doesn’t pass in ten minutes, I’m calling Doc Fine.”

When she says, “Okay,” without a protest he nearly calls the Doc anyway.

Only the tightening of her arm around him holds him still. Steve presses his cheek against her jaw and sits quietly, warming her with his body, listening to the sound of her breathing, carefully controlled.

Beyond the garden hedge, the tourists come and go, most of them unaware of the garden, let alone the people in it. Steve listens to them as they pass, his senses stretched for any sign of disturbance, for any sign that their pursuers are still coming. There's nothing that he can hear, nothing out of the ordinary. Just tourists talking in broken snatches of conversation, the tread of footsteps on the gravel and sand, and the rustle of the wind in the trees and the grass.

Finally, just shy of the ten minutes he allowed, Maria relaxes against him, breathing normally, and he brushes the strands of hair back from her face.

“How are you?”

“Better. Steadier.” She swallows. “Tired, but I don’t feel like I’m about to hit a wall...”

“Good.” He turns his face into her neck and nestles in the steady warmth of her pulse. “You had me worried.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not—” Steve bites that off before it goes any further.

Of course Maria isn’t about to let that pass. “It’s not what?”

He exhales. “Are you apologising for causing me inconvenience? Or apologising for needing me?”

She flushes, and her gaze skates away, but at least she doesn’t deny it. When she lifts her eyes to his, there’s regret there, but not remorse. “It’s habit.”

And Steve knows that this is who she is, and she can’t change – not even for him. So he presses his lips to her temple again and only murmurs, “I know.”


End file.
